That HBO has so regularly nailed the finales of shows like Succession, The Sopranos, The Wire, and Six Feet Under made the colossal disappointment of Game of Thrones’ final season even more glaring. In fairness to co-creators David Benioff and Dan Weiss, the narrative kerfuffle they were involved in was unprecedented. Game of Thrones had begun as an adaptation of the five existing books in George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series, with the assumption that the two remaining novels would be released by the time that the show reached that point in its timeline. When Martin failed to complete even one of the sequels on schedule, Benioff and Weiss were forced to turn from adapters to creators, and crafted a slapdash conclusion where foreshadowing didn’t pay off, secrets were uncovered unceremoniously, and everything wrapped up in a way that was too clean when compared to Martin’s writing style. Game of Thrones might’ve been a story that was impossible to complete, which could explain why Martin’s no closer to finishing it than he was 15 years ago, when the show first aired.
It would be a shame for Game of Thrones to have the same overexposure of franchises like Star Wars or the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which is why HBO scrapped its original pilot for the prequel series The Long Night, and cancelled a potential series that had signed on Naomi Watts, Miranda Richarson, Denise Gough, and Stranger Things’ Jamie Campbell Bower. It was decided that Martin’s writing, while often incomplete, was preferable to the “fan-fiction” of an original series set in Westeros. The series that became House of the Dragon was based on Martin’s novel Fire & Blood, a more streamlined, documented account of the history of Westeros’ most powerful family set 200 years before the beginning of Game of Thrones.
House of the Dragon had the challenge of replicating the scale and scope of Game of Thrones without the time commitment; it’d be much more challenging for audiences to invest in the gradual build-up of different groups of characters scattered across the fictional map, especially if they didn’t cross over until multiple seasons in. That House of the Dragon has a more tightened focus is its greatest merit, because it’s interested in the grossly narcissistic, impenetrable royal dynasties that move entire populations. It could be mistaken for a medieval war epic of palace intrigue, if not for the occasional CGI battles that have more dragons than were featured in the entirety of Game of Thrones.
The third season of House of the Dragon is the show that was promised from the beginning, given that the first two installments in the prequel show were very expensive (if entertaining) exercises in table-setting. The first season’s goal was to develop a splinter within the Royal line of succession that emerged after the death of King Viserys I Targaryen (Paddy Considine), whose daughter Rhaenyra (Milly Alcock) had been childhood best friends with Alicent (Emily Carey), the daughter of the noble strategist Ser Otto Hightower (Rhys Ifans). A tryst is initiated when the King’s wife Aemma (Siân Brooke) is overtaken by illness after failing to produce a male heir. Although Rhaenyra is named as his true successor, Viserys is also married to Alicent, who’s a grandmother by the time that she’s 34. The aftermath of Viserys’ death is the spark to war between former friends, with Emma D’Arcy and Olivia Cooke in the roles of the older Rhaenyra and Alicent, respectively.
If the first season had to speed through decades of history in to get to the meat of the story, the second was undercut by the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes, as well as a tightening of the HBO budget in its pre-acquisition era. The “war” that was promised between Alicent and her children (nicknamed “The Greens” for their royal stronghold) and Rhaenyra’s rebel coalition (referred to as “The Blacks”) featured less seismic battle than anticipated, and far more gathering of allies. The most interesting relationship in the series was that of Rhaenyra and her uncle, Daemon (Matt Smith), who became her lover in an attempt to strengthen their grasp on the throne, and because Martin has showed a continued fascination with incest. Daemon spent a majority of Season 2 on a side quest that went nowhere; his brief flirtations with personal glory were set aside for the betterment of Rhaenyra, his Queen, wife, and niece.
Alicent’s storyline, consistently less interesting, is given more life in Season 3 because her children are pitted against one another in an inane power struggle that’s closer to Succession than a traditional sword-and-sorcery tale. Alicent’s oldest child, Aegon II (Tom Glynn-Carney), is a cruel, yet haplessly incompetent tyrant-in-the-making who’s humbled after his life is nearly claimed in a dragon battle; his position as King of the Seven Kingdoms is threatened by his brother, Aemond (Ewan Mitchell), a sociopathic, yet brilliant strategist who’s lacked the presence needed for a strong leader. The characters in House of the Dragon have all committed acts of violence, aggression, and cruelty; to make any sympathy about the characters comparative is bold, and it’s allowed House of the Dragon to depict the savagery of generational conflict without any endorsements.
"Salt and Sea, Fire and Blood," the Season 3 premiere episode, is the type of visual achievement that would’ve seemed impossible 15 years ago, when the first season of Game of Thrones had to cut out a battle scene due to budgetary constraints. It’s almost entirely centered on a maritime conflict where pirates, crossbows, warships, and many factions of soldiers fight until the survivors are numbered. The best that can be said about House of the Dragon, especially when compared to other franchise prequels, is that it’s not merely a recitation of events that appeared in a fictional timeline. The only thing guaranteed about war is mutual destruction, regardless if there are dragons involved or not.